A Taste for Vengeance
by WildFlower084
Summary: When Brennan mysteriously disappears from her apartment, Booth is immediately the prime suspect. Finding his situation ridiculous, Booth takes it upon himself to find out the truth before it's too late. See inside for official genre.
1. Chapter 1: An End to a Perfect Evening

**A/N: I've decided to finish up on some of my stories left incomplete. I will be starting with this story and will be working my way up the list. Important note: this story was actually started in 2006, basically during the beginning of season 2. Which means there are some important things to be taken into account: Sully and Hannah didn't happen; but Cam and Booth's relationship did. It has also happened ****before**** Judas on a Pole where we meet Bones' dad. Basically, Max doesn't exist up to this point nor will he appear in that story. Things might also seem OOC for them in the first chapter. Consider this story an AU.**

**Characters to be present in the story: Brennan, Booth, Cam, Angela, Zach, Hodgins, and Russ.**

**Other than that, enjoy! And don't forget to leave your reviews (anonymous or not) at the door.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothin' except a character that's currently not in the story yet.**

**Genre: Mystery/Suspense/Romance/Drama/Angst. Basically, it will be a bit of everything for everybody.**

* * *

A soft breeze was blowing as Temperance and Booth both climbed out of the SUV. Booth waited for his partner to step around the vehicle before pulling her to him. His hands immediately went to rest on her hips as she slipped her own arms around his waist. Booth sighed happily. This has been a wonderful evening, the first one he had had in months. Hanging out with his partner had always been something close to fun, but tonight had been different; tonight had been their first official date.

The thought of it made him smile. After two years of bickering and constant flirting, they had finally taken the leap together. The entire thing felt surreal; Booth felt like he would wake up at any moment to find tonight had been a dream. But the warmth of her body pressed against his reminded him this was _too_ real to be a dream. Now that it was time to bring her home, a small part of him hated to see the evening coming to an end.

Her voice brought him back to reality.

"Booth," Temperance said as she pointed to her windows.

His gaze followed her fingers but as his eyes fell on the window, he couldn't find anything out of the ordinary.

"What am I looking at?" he asked, confused.

Temperance frowned. The light she had seen only seconds earlier was now turned off. Had she imagined it? Was she so tired her mind was playing tricks on her? She turned back to her partner who was looking at her questioningly.

"I saw a light in my apartment," she replied. "But it's not there anymore."

Booth frowned. His partner usually didn't make up stuff. Suddenly, the fact that night had fallen hit him. A cloud slowly covered the moon, plunging the couple into the darkness. The wind blew a little stronger, making Booth shiver.

"Are you sure it's your window?"

"Booth, I've been living here for a year. I _know_ which one is my window."

Booth nodded. He knew she was right. She rarely imagined stuff. His partner was a very rational person. Hallucinations didn't happen to overly-rational people, right? His gut feeling told him he ought to walk her up to her apartment, check things out and make sure she would be safe.

Looking back one more time at the window, Booth resumed his walk, Temperance following closely behind him. The window had definitely picked up and Booth had the feeling the city would be the victim of yet _another_ rainstorm over the night. In the distance, Booth thought he heard the rumbling sound of thunder. Okay now _he_ was imagining stuff.

They walked quietly up to the building's main entrance. He waited patiently as Temperance looked through her purse for the keys that would unlock the main door. She found them seconds later and unlocked the door before turning around to face her partner.

"You'll probably want to come up and raid my apartment to make sure nobody's in there," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"How did you know?" Booth replied, forcing a smile onto his face.

"My _gut feeling_ told me so," she replied, chuckling softly.

Her answer brought a real smile out of him and he chuckled as well. He was overreacting. Nobody was in his friend's apartment. She had probably just mistaken her neighbour's window for hers.

They took the stairs. The staircase was quiet and their footsteps echoed off the walls. Booth tried his best to remain calm. There was just something about tonight that didn't quite feel right. The building just seemed too quiet, like it had shut down for the night and that all the tenants had left.

The hallway was just the same and Booth didn't know if he liked its dim atmosphere. The carpet muffled the sound of their footsteps which Booth was actually glad for. If there was someone in Temperance's apartment, it wouldn't hear them come.

They made it to the door without meeting a single living soul. Temperance stopped and examined it. Everything looked fine. Maybe there wasn't someone in the apartment after all. It was possible that she had mistaken her window for someone else's. Sighing with relief, she turned to her partner.

Silence hung heavily between them as neither knew what to say. Their eyes met every second or so, making them both smile somewhat shyly. Finally, after a minute or two, Temperance finally broke the silence.

"I'll be fine, Booth. You can go."

"Are you sure you don't want me to check out your apartment?"

Temperance shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

This time, she sighed. He could be so stubborn sometimes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, go!"

Before he could say anything, Booth felt a pair of lips press against his. He stood there, stunned, unable to move or to respond to the kiss. Was this really happening? Was Temperance actually kissing him? What connected had been cut off between his brain and his lips soon came back and he found himself responding to her kiss. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her to him.

When breathing became a necessity, the couple pulled back. Resting their foreheads against each other, they stayed like that for a few seconds until their breathing had steadied and come back to normal.

"Good night, Booth."

" 'Night, Bones."

She watched as he began to walk away then turned.

"Are you sure?"

Temperance simply raised an eyebrow in a do-you-really-want-to-have-this-conversation-again manner. Booth rolled his eyes before turning back around and walking away.

She waited until he had disappeared in the staircase before turning to her door. She turned the knob and found it unlocked. She frowned. She didn't remember not locking her door before leaving earlier that evening. Then again, she had been disturbed by Booth's constant nagging at how they were going to be late for the movie if she didn't hurry up.

She slowly pushed the door open. The oven light was still on. Temperance sighed in relief. That's what she had seen from the window. She probably just hadn't turned it off after making herself some dinner. Dropping her keys in the little bowl on the small table beside the door, she took off her shoes. She had been wearing them all day and the fluffiness of the carpet under her feet felt weird. She closed the door behind her.

From where she stood, she could see the flashing light of her answering machine. She made her way to it and pressed the _Play_ button. Her brother's voice filled the apartment.

"Hey Tempe, it's me. I was just wondering if…"

Darkness fell upon the apartment as Russ' voice was immediately caught off. Temperance jumped, startled by the power outage. She turned to her window. The moon was still hidden behind a thick gray cloud. The other buildings still had electricity. She gulped, her heart racing inside her chest. A noise on her right made her head snap in that direction.

"Who's there?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray the anxiety she was experiencing.

When no one replied, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart.

_Calm down, Temperance. Nobody is here._

She slowly opened her eyes to find that the cloud had disappeared and moonlight was now shining through the window. She took a deep breath and was about to release it when she felt it. Cold. Coldness against her throat and warmness against her ear. A bit of air thrown into the mix. Her heart skipped a beat.

"If you scream, I won't be afraid to use this," the voice whispered.

Temperance gulped as the stranger pressed the blade against her throat.

* * *

He couldn't stop pacing. His cellphone seemed to be staring at him from where it lay on the couch. Booth eyed it, paranoid.

"Stop looking at me! She's okay!" he snapped at his phone, knowing fully well how stupid he sounded.

He had tried calling her but she hadn't picked up. He had been calling for the past thirty minutes to convince himself that she simply hadn't heard it. Yet, a nagging feeling kept telling him there was more to it.

At 10:45, Booth made up his mind. He'd go back to her apartment and check out for himself. After all, he wouldn't be able to get some sleep if he didn't. Grabbing his cellphone, he ran out of his house. He made the drive from his house to her apartment in record time. As he stepped out of the SUV, he noticed how the lights in the building were all out. He immediately jogged to the front entrance to find the door locked. He cursed under his breath. Of course it was _locked. _He ran to the other side of the building. He remembered his partner telling him that there was an emergency door back there and that it remained always unlocked.

The door opened. He smiled triumphantly before running inside. The hallways were just as quiet as they had been an hour earlier which just intensified the feeling settled in Booth's stomach.

He climbed the stairs two at a time. He had no time to waste. As he stepped into the second-floor corridor, he just knew something wasn't right. His eyes immediately went to his partner's apartment door. His heart began pounding in his chest when he realized the door had been left ajar. Inside the apartment, everything was dark and quiet.

"Bones?" he called out, turning on the living room light.

No answer. No light.

"Bones? Are you there?"

He examined every room to find them empty.

"Temperance?"

Her bedroom door was closed. Taking a deep breath, he slowly reached out for the knob and turned it. He pushed the door open and, even through the darkness, he could see his partner's empty bed. A noise behind him made him turn around.

"Bones?"

A head popped inside the apartment.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" a middle-aged man asked.

"No. Sorry to have bothered you," Booth replied before taking his cellphone out.

He tried Temperance's number. Music reached his ears. He looked around and his eyes fell on his partner's purse beside the door. His stomach did a backflip. He walked back to the door. Temperance's keys were still in the little bowl. Another backflip. He rushed to the window. Her car was still parked under that same tree. He turned back to the door. Her shoes lay on the floor beside the door.

The cop in him instantly took over. His eyes scanned the entire apartment. There was no apparent signs of struggle. The door showed no damage and the furniture had not been moved. That's when it happened. Something on the carpet caught his attention. Crouching down, he recognized it immediately.

A stain. A tiny, red stain.

Booth reached down his pocket and flipped his cellphone open. With shaky hands, he dialed the number to the local PD.


	2. Chapter 2: Prime Suspect

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

From his partner's apartment window, Booth looked down at the street. Four police cars and the inspector's van were parked in front of the building. The blue and red lights were already attracting a crowd despite the late time.

Behind him, the team was collecting evidence. He already knew they would find nothing. The abductor obviously hadn't left behind some clues. Fingerprints were being dusted off the doorknob, the carpet was being closely examined for traces of shoeprints and a few officers were currently investigating the cause of the power shortage.

The apartment was buzzing with activity but Booth didn't hear a sound. His thoughts were miles away from the apartment. His heard was racing and his shaking hands were cold and sweaty. He felt guilty. If only he had insisted a bit more on coming in with her, if only he had come back earlier, maybe he would have been able to save her. Instead, he had gone home, feeling slightly dazed from their unexpected kiss. He had shoved aside his gut feeling, that same feeling that had proven helpful on numerous occasions, and had trusted his partner's words that she would be fine. Now, she was missing.

If it hadn't been for his position at the FBI and for Bones' status as a renowned forensic anthropologist, Booth knew nothing would have been going on at the moment. The local police department would have told him to wait 24 hours and that she was probably just gone to the store and would come back. In this case, nobody could deny the evidence: the shoes, the purse, the keys, the car still parked in its spot and the red blood stain on the carpet. Temperance Brennan had been abducted.

"We're almost done, Agent Booth," a voice said behind him.

Booth, startled, spun around.

"Nothing relevant to the investigation was found."

Booth nodded. He knew that already.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions.

The officer sat down on the couch – her couch – and motioned for Booth to do the same. The two men sat facing each other. Booth examined the officer sitting across from him. He seemed much younger than him. His blonde hair and blue eyes made look like a young boy, but Booth was pretty sure the man was at least 30 years old. He wasn't big but wasn't scrawny either. Judging by his height, Booth had a definite feeling that he had been teased several times by his colleagues.

The officer cleared his throat before speaking.

"What were you doing inside Dr. Brenan's apartment, Agent Booth?"

Booth's eyes grew round in surprise.

"I was coming by to check on her. I was worried," Booth replied, unsure where this conversation would be leading.

The officer nodded.

"Did you have any reasons to be worried about her?"

"I was with her earlier this evening. When I came to drop her off, she noticed something suspicious in her apartment. She shrugged it off as always, we said good night and I left. I went home and tried calling her cellphone to see if everything was okay. When she didn't answer her phone, I came over here to check it out myself."

The young officer jotted down something in a notepad. Booth rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the officer's way of keeping track of interviews. Why did police officers always use notepads to remember interviews? He certainly didn't need any.

He was becoming irritated for no reason and knew it. But the more time this officer spent scribbling down little notes, the less time he had to find his partner. The first 24 hours after an abduction were the most crucial. Surely the officer sitting in front of him knew that.

"Then what happened?"

"I used the emergency door to walk in the building. When I arrived at her apartment, I noticed the door had been left ajar. I called her name a couple of times with no luck. I checked every now, but there were still no sign of her. I tried calling her cellphone and I heard it ringing from her purse, beside the door. The shoes she wore tonight were in the entrance and so were her keys. I looked out the window and her car was still parked in its space. When I saw the blood stain on the carpet, I called you guys immediately."

There was more scribbling. The noise of the pen on the paper irritated Booth. He began tapping his foot, feeling restless. All he wanted was to leave this place and go back home. Being in her apartment only reminded him of what had probably happened to her. He couldn't bear thinking about it.

"What was she to you?"

The question took Booth by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what was she to you? Were you two friends, colleagues, lovers…?"

_All of the above,_ Booth thought to himself.

"I don't see how it's relevant."

The young office sighed. The day had been long and his migraine was only intensifying with every single sound his team made behind him. All he wanted was to finish up this report and go home to sleep. If this 'agent' couldn't get his act straight, he had a feeling he would be here for a long time.

"Agent Booth, do I need to remind you that you are the last person to have seen Dr. Brennan?"

"No, but…"

"And do you realize that, since we have no other leads, you become our prime suspect?"

Booth's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What do you mean, prime suspect? She's my partner. We went on a date, I brought her home and that was it."

"Can your alibi check out? Where did you two go for your date?"

"We went to see a movie," Booth replied, deeply annoyed.

He knew the prime suspect hypothesis wouldn't hold. He had done absolutely nothing wrong and there wasn't any evidence, physical or circumstantial, to tie him to her disappearance. He felt the anger start to boil in his veins.

"Which theater?"

Booth gave him the name. The officer wrote it down. Flipping his notepad shut, he looked up at Booth.

"I suggest you don't leave the area. We'll be in touch."

On that, the officer got up and headed towards the door, leaving a dumbfounded special agent behind him.

Booth watched from the couch as the team gathered their equipment and left. The apartment was once again silent. Booth looked around and shivered. He had been in here just hours earlier and had watched somewhat impatiently as his partner got ready for their date. He remembered her putting away the dishes in the cupboards. She had walked around her apartment, tidying her home before she left. He had been impatient with her, had told her to hurry up because they were going to be late for the movie. Now, he regretted his attitude.

The answering machine caught his attention. Without knowing why, he slowly walked to the machine and pressed the _Play_ button. A message recorded the same day began to play.

"Hey Tempe, it's me."

Booth recognized his partner's brother's voice.

"I was just wondering if you would like me to come down next weekend. We haven't hung out for a while. It would be fun. Call me back when you have the time. Love you."

The _beep_ told Booth the message was over. Booth sighed. He would have to call Russ to tell him his baby sister had disappeared.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there, staring at the machine. Finally, grabbing the phone, he searched through the directory for Russ' phone number. He quickly found it under speed dial 1. He wasn't surprised at Russ' priority. Temperance had been more than happy to have been reunited with her brother. Curious, he checked the other buttons. He found Angela at number 2 and his home phone number, cell phone number and office number under 3, 4, and 5. Booth smiled in spite of the sadness and the anxiety he felt at the moment. At least he was important enough to have a speed dial button.

Pressing the 1, he waited as the phone dialled the number. A few rings later, a rather sleepy Russ answered the phone.

"Hello?"

Booth glanced up at the lock hanging from the wall. It showed 11:49.

"Russ, it's Booth, your sister's partner."

"Oh, yeah," Russ replied, yawning. "Agent Booth. Always nice to hear from you at… 11:50 at night."

The sarcasm in Russ' voice was obvious even under the thick layers of sleep.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, Russ, but I'm calling about your sister."

Even through the phone, Booth knew he had struck a chord.

"What? What's wrong with her?"

Russ sounded completely awake now. Booth took a deep breath.

"She disappeared. Someone took her."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Booth gave the man some time to process the information. When Russ still hadn't said anything, Booth ventured to talk.

"The cops already stopped by her apartment, but they found nothing. They seem to think I've done it."

"You? Kidnap my sister? They are crazy!"

"Hey! I'm with you on that one," Booth replied.

"You would never hurt my sister."

"Never! That's why I'll do my best to find her."

"I'm coming to DC," Russ announced.

"Why? There's no need to."

"She's my _sister_, Booth. I can't stay here in North Carolina and wait. I'll help you look for her. We'll set up a search team or something."

"Listen, Russ. We'll talk in the morning, okay? You just sleep on it. I'll call you if something new comes up."

A long sigh reached his ear.

"Fine. Talk to you later."

The two men hung up.

The call had only lasted three minutes but it had drained the last ounce of energy Booth had had in him. Grabbing his jacket, he casted one last look at the empty apartment and headed out. A deep sense of emptiness overtook him as he closed the door behind him and locked it.

Outside, rain had started to pour. By the time Booth made it to the SUV, he was soaked.

* * *

Temperance moaned softly as she slowly regained consciousness. Her neck felt sore and she couldn't feel her feet or her hands. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by complete darkness. She tried to listen for a sound but everything around was completely silent. She tried moving, quickly found that she couldn't. She was bound to a chair.

Her lips and her throat were dry. She was thirsty. Licking her lips to moisten them, her tongue bumped against a small cute. Memories of earlier events came back to her: the blade, the warmness of the breath against her… He had pressed the blade to her neck. When she had fought back, he had punched her in the jaw. She had fallen to the ground. He had pulled her to her feet and had told her to act normally as they walked out of the apartment building.

Somewhere to her left, a door opened. She turned her head in that direction to find the tall man walking in. He slowly approached her and Temperance could feel herself beginning to shake. The man came to a stop in front of him. Gathering as much courage as she could, Temperance tried to free herself. The man chuckled.

"You can't escape, my precious."

Bringing a hand to her face, he gently stroked her cheek.

"Such a beautiful woman and pretty talented in her line of work from what I heard. It's too bad I'll have to kill you."

Temperance tried to turn away from the stranger. The man forced her to turn her head to face him.

"Maybe I'll just wait a little longer. Someone's bound to start looking for you. This could prove to be interesting."

Temperance watched as the man's hand disappeared in his pocket, to slowly come out with duct tape.

"Now be a good girl and hold still," he commanded before leaning towards her and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

Temperance shuddered.

Seconds later, she was plunged into an even more profound darkness as duct tape covered her eyes and mouth. She listened as the footsteps walked away from her.

"Pleasant dreams, precious," the man said before closing the door behind him.

Temperance tried once again to free herself before finally admitting defeat. She let a few tears slide down from her eyes as she desperately clung to the hope that Booth was looking for her.


	3. Chapter 3: Surprise Information

**A/N: In this chapter: Booth wearing nothing but a towel and Booth picking out a pair of boxers. ;-)**

* * *

A good night's sleep is the best solution when it comes to clearing out your mind. What you thought to be confusing or hopeless the night before suddenly seemed simple the next morning. But as Booth slowly began to stir in his bed, he knew that this time had been an exception. He had barely slept, too busy imagining the terrible things his friend was probably going through at the moment.

Stretching, he turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. In a couple of hours, he would be back into her apartment building to interview some of her neighbours. Someone _had_ to have heard or seen something. Temperance had disappeared between 9:30 and 10:30 pm. On a Friday night, someone was bound to have been awake at that time.

Booth yawned. If someone _had_ heard something, he wanted to be the first one to know. Feeling a new wave of confidence sweeping through him, he slowly sat up in his bed. Maybe sleep hadn't cleared his mind but a steamy shower probably would.

Temperance opened her eyes and groaned. Her entire body was now sore from staying in a sitting position for a long period of time. She didn't know what had awoken her. The room was completely silent. She shivered as images of similar past events ran through her mind. Would it be just like Guatemala? Would she be held captive for three days thinking that she would die? Was the man actually going to kill her?

She felt a tear run down her cheek as she thought of her friends at the Jeffersonian. Were they aware that she had disappeared? Had Booth told them? Was he already looking for them?

She felt weak and powerless. Her stomach growled furiously in hunger. Her eyes and her mouth were still taped shut. Her wrists and ankles were still tightly tied to her chair. She sighed. How could this have happened to her? Why _her_ particularly? Had the man planned this? Had he followed her for the past couple of days, waiting for the perfect moment to take her? How had he walked in her apartment? Did he have the key? Maybe she hadn't locked the door after all.

She closed her eyes once more, hoping her advanced state of hunger would send her into unconsciousness. She preferred that state to the frightening sensation of not knowing what was going to happen next.

Stepping out of the shower, Booth wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked out of the sauna that had become his bathroom and straight in her bedroom.

A tiny ray of light made its way into the bedroom through the shut drapes. Grabbing his watch, Booth put it on his wrist before looking in his drawers for something to wear. He couldn't believe he was doing this: picking out decent clothing to go interview some of his partner's neighbours. He had known that Temperance attracted danger like a magnet but, after the Kenton incident, he didn't think it would happen again so soon. A bit more than a year had passed since that fateful day and yet, he clearly remembered his previous rescue.

They had clung to one another for dear life. She was too shaken to even cry and her sobs had come out all raspy and breathy, like a deep cough. He had held her close, feeling so much relief that he thought his heart was going to explode. She was safe and in his arms again.

Tears stung the back of his eyes and he blinked quickly, trying desperately to send them back where they had come from. Anger rose inside of him, his sense of determination growing as well. Whoever had done this to her would pay dearly. Booth grabbed the first pair of boxers he found in his drawer before stepping to the closet and choosing a casual suit.

A few hours later, after a good shave, breakfast and coffee, Booth walked out the door.

* * *

Jamie Fromm was asleep on the couch when three loud knocks startled him awake. Groaning loudly, he opened his eyes and stared at the luminescent clock on his VCR. The glowing digits told him it was 9:23. Who could possibly be knocking at his door so early on a Saturday morning?

More knocks echoed off his walls. Jamie groaned once again as he got to his feet. His head pounded as he slowly made his way to the door, his bloodshot eyes full of sleep.

Opening the door, he found a tall brown-haired man standing at his doorstep.

"Can I help you?" Jamie asked, confused.

Booth produced his badge.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Jamie rubbed his eyes before running a hand through his hair.

"Questions about what?"

His brain was still clouded from the amount of alcohol he had ingurgitated the night before.

"About what happened last night."

Jamie's eyes narrowed as he tried to remember a certain event that would require the FBI to drop by his apartment so early in the morning. Had he done something illegal again?

Seeing the look of confusion on the man's face, Booth went on.

"Your neighbour was taken from her home between 9:30 and 10:30 last night. Did you see or hear anything suspicious?"

Jamie frowned.

"Which neighbour?"

"The one living right next to you."

"Someone lives in that apartment?" Jamie asked, surprised.

Booth nodded.

"Yes. Did you hear something or not?"

Jamie blinked a few times, trying to remember where he had been the previous night. Blurry visions filled his mind.

"Sorry, man," he replied. "I was out all night. Didn't come back until at least three this morning… I think."

Jamie blinked a few times. Where had he been at that time? Had he been here, in his apartment? Oh no. He had been out partying with a few of his buddies.

Booth nodded. He should have known, by the hair in every direction, the unshaved face and the bloodshot eyes, that the guy wouldn't have heard a thing.

"Well thank you for your time," Booth said before walking away.

Jamie closed the door.

_Oh man, what a night_. He thought, rubbing his eyes and walking towards the bathroom.

* * *

Booth moved on to tenant number two. Knocking at the door, he waited for the person to come answer it. While he waited, Booth mentally went over the crime scene one more time. Everything had been too tidy for a crime scene and the door had been left intact. How had the man got in? Had Temperance invited him in? Did she know him? Maybe she had forgotten to lock her door and the man had simply walked in. Something else didn't make sense. Temperance was a fighter. There should have been signs of struggle.

His train of thought was cut short when the door in front of him opened. A tall woman stood before him, blonde hair cascading down to her waist and blue eyes that vaguely reminded Booth of the ocean. She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Can I help you?"

Her voice was melodious. Booth swallowed hard.

"I was uh… wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

The purpose of his visit suddenly hit him, snapping him out of whatever fantasy his subconscious had been having. Bones had disappeared; he couldn't lose sight of that purpose.

"Sure."

Booth flashed his badge once again before introducing himself.

"Last night, my partner, who happens to be your next-door neighbour, was taken from her home."

Tears immediately welled up in the woman's eyes.

"Tempe was taken from her home?"

Booth stared at her, surprised.

"You _know_ her?"

The woman chuckled despite the bad news she had just received.

"You sound surprised," the woman replied.

"I just didn't think Bones... I mean, Temperance, knew anybody in her building. She spends most of her time at work."

The woman smiled.

"I'm a lawyer. My name is Patricia Jameson. Tempe and I worked on a few cases together for the prosecution. Last year, she moved in and we just happened to become neighbours."

"Did you see her often?"

"Every once in a while. Like you said, she spent most of her time at work. I would see her in the morning; we would talk while walking to our cars. She was different, always so literal."

"Did she ever mention something weird?"

"Like what?"

"That she felt like she was being followed or something similar?"

Patricia shook her head.

"No, never."

"And did you happen to hear anything weird or suspicious last night?"

Patricia replayed her entire evening. The memory of a tiny detail suddenly came back to her.

"Now that you mention it, I did. It was around 8:30. I heard someone close the door to her apartment. I thought she had come home so I gave her a call to ask her if she wanted to come over. I heard some moving around but she never picked up the phone. I could hear it ringing through the wall. I hung up, figuring she didn't feel like having a social call."

Booth frowned.

"You're sure it was around 8:30?"

"Yes." Patricia replied, feeling confident.

"Did you happen to hear anything else later in the evening?"

The lawyer shook her head.

"I'm sorry, no. Did she disappear after 8:30?"

Booth nodded.

"Oh my..."

Her hand went to her mouth. She just couldn't believe it.

Booth watched as tears once again formed into the young woman's eyes. He immediately began to feel bad for her.

"If you ever think of anything, just give me a call." Booth said, having learned everything he could from the woman. "Here's my card."

Patricia grabbed the small piece of paper and nodded. Booth smiled sympathetically at her before turning around. He had other apartments to visit.

* * *

Ten apartments on a same floor and nobody had heard a thing. Booth sighed. How was it possible that an entire floor, with the exception of Miss Lawyer (he had already forgotten her name), had not heard _something_?

He let himself slide down the wall. With his head resting in his hands, he thought.

Miss Blondie Lawyer had said she had heard someone walking in Temperance's apartment around 8:30. Yet, it couldn't have been her because they had been at the movies at that time. They had arrived at her building no later than 9:15; _that_ he was sure of. A light had been on in her apartment, only to be turned off seconds later. Had the man been in her apartment then? How had he got in?

A noise on his right startled him. He looked up to find the same middle-aged man walking up the stairs. Booth stood up and walked towards him. Taking out his badge from his jacket pocket, he flashed it quickly.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI."

He was beginning to feel tired of introducing himself and he hoped that this would be the last time, today, that he would.

"Tom Pharatt, this building," the other man replied, looking at the agent suspiciously.

"Would you mind if I ask you a few questions, Tom?"

Tom's eyes narrowed. After what had happened the previous night, he wasn't about to trust some stranger sitting in the hallway of his supposedly secure building.

"Weren't you the man in that doctor's apartment last night?"

"Yes, I was looking for her. Did you know she was abducted?"

The man nodded. Booth looked at him, surprised.

"How did you know?"

"The cops talked to me last night. What do _you_ want?"

"I just want to know if you've heard or seen anything weird or suspicious last night."

Tom glanced briefly at his neighbour's closed door then back at Booth.

"The cops already asked me this but I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure if it was relevant or not. I don't know my neighbour very well. She's not very friendly."

Booth's jaw tightened.

"Get to the point," he warned the man.

Tom remained unimpressed.

"Like I said, I don't know her very well. When he told me he was her boyfriend from out of town, I believed him. After all, he did seem to have the keys to her apartment since he had already opened the door."

Booth's heart stopped beating. Temperance's boyfriend? Keys to her apartment?

"Who was he?"

"I don't know."

"What time did you see him at?"

Tom looked up at the ceiling.

"It must have been 8:30 or something. I was heading to the store to buy some chips and when I met him in this hallway. His story seemed plausible and he didn't seem suspicious to me. I didn't ask more questions."

"What did he look like?"

Tom paused to think for a few seconds.

"He was tall, probably your height. He had black hair and brown eyes."

_Lots of people fit that description,_ Booth thought to himself.

"Is that it? Did he have any tattoos? Did he have short or long hair? How was he dressed? Was he carrying anything?"

"His hair was short, very short. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. That's all I can remember."

Booth nodded.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

The two men walked away in opposite directions. Booth, feeling a new energy running through him, jogged down the stairs and walked out of the building. He would stop by his office. A lot of men could fit Tom's description but Booth didn't care. As long as he kept doing _something_ to find his friend, it didn't matter how useless it was.


	4. Chapter 4: TM

**A/N: Enjoy this new chapter! Little reminder: this story was written early in the second season. If characters seem OOC for some of you, remember that this story was based on their personality and history as we knew it at the beginning of season 2. Much has changed since then.**

* * *

He knew it was hopeless but he had to do something. Searching for a tall man with black hair and brown eyes kept him from thinking about the horrible things that could be happening to his partner at the very moment. More than twelve hours had passed since she had been abducted; for all he knew, she could be locked up somewhere or even be dead. Searching for her possible kidnapper, even if it meant looking at hundreds of different files, made him feel like he was doing something rather just sitting around and waiting for the local police to find her. He needed to do something; his partner was in danger.

The building was quiet; the only sound came from the typing of Booth's fingers on the keyboard. His eyes were slowly beginning to burn from staring at the computer screen. Booth checked his watch. He had arrived at 12:00 and it was now two. Only a hundred files out of a thousand had been examined.

A knock at his door made him look up. He was surprised to find Russ standing outside his office. He motioned for the man to come in. Russ sat down in a chair across from Booth.

"I told you not to come down," Booth said, going back to his computer screen.

"I told my parole officer I was coming here. I won't be in any kind of trouble. I just couldn't stay at home, not doing anything, while my sister is somewhere kidnapped."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't." Russ replied, honestly. "I just figured that you wouldn't stay at home either. I took a chance, saw the SUV, and came in."

A silence filled the room. Booth continued looking at the files while Russ examined the office. Then, after a few minutes of silence, Russ spoke.

"Did you learn anything?"

Booth sighed, looked away from the screen and rubbed his eyes before filling his visitor in on everything he had learned.

"It's not much, but it's a start," Booth said, trying to sound cheerful.

"You don't have to pretend to be happy, Agent Booth. I know you didn't mean for Tempe to disappear. You shouldn't blame yourself."

"I was at her house that night, Russ. The police suspect me of abducting my own partner. The evidence pointed to something not being right, but I trust her judgement. I shouldn't have."

"Temperance _is_ fearless."

A sad smile spread over Booth's face.

"That's true. I was going through some files to find a possible match. I haven't found anything yet. Without a precise description, I'll still be here in a week."

"Did you search Tempe's apartment?" Russ asked after a few moments of silence.

"The local PD did. They found nothing."

"I didn't ask if the local PD checked, I asked if you checked."

Booth frowned.

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is that you know Tempe. You've been to her apartment before. You know what is supposed to be there and what is not. Maybe if you search yourself, you'll find something that the police overlooked."

"You really think so?" Booth asked, sceptical.

The thought of having to go back to his partner's apartment wasn't enchanting. After all, they would probably only waste their time. The apartment had already been searched from top to bottom. The Washington Police had found no shoe-print, no sign of a struggle and no piece of evidence. The carpet had been hair- and fibre-free. The investigation wasn't FBI jurisdiction. At the moment, he could be charged for obstruction during an investigation if he was caught.

He turned to look at Russ. His eyes showed deep sorrow and fear for his sister's safety, the same feelings currently going through him. The files would still be here later today. A quick visit to his partner's apartment would keep them moving and make them feel like they were doing something.

In a flash, Booth was on his feet. Startled, Russ's head snapped up in his direction.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to pay a little visit to Bones' apartment."

* * *

The two men got out of the car. Quietly, they made their way to the back of the building. Booth opened the emergency door and stepped inside the building, Russ following closely behind him. No words were exchanged as they climbed the staircase, passing a man with a bag going the opposite direction. The man nodded curtly to Booth. Booth was too lost in his thoughts to reply.

Unlocking the door to her apartment, Booth pushed it open and stepped inside the dark living room. Thick clouds were hiding the sun, plunging the living room and the adjacent kitchen into a light darkness.

"What are we looking for?" Russ whispered as he closed the door behind them.

"We'll search through the entire apartment. Look for anything that doesn't seem Temperance-y, anything your sister isn't likely to have."

Russ nodded.

"You take the bedroom and the bathroom; I'll take the living room and the kitchen."

Russ disappeared down the hallway. Booth sighed as he looked around the apartment. It felt weird being here without her, knowing that she was somewhere in this city, suffering. A sense of guilt overwhelmed him and Booth felt the need to sit down. Dropping himself onto the couch, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

_You can't let your feeling get in the way of your judgement. Bones needs you right now. She needs you to be rational, just like her._

Then, taking a deep breath, Booth opened his eyes and got to his feet. He began by inspecting the kitchen.

Nothing in the kitchen seemed out of place. Every glass was neatly aligned in the cupboard; the plates were still stacked in their usual cupboard beside the stove. The counters were empty, just like she had left them. Either she hadn't come into the kitchen at all or she hadn't had the time to.

The kitchen only took a few minutes to examine. Booth hadn't found anything and, from the lack of noise coming from the other part of the apartment, he had the feeling that Russ hadn't been luckier than him.

Back in the living room, Booth sat down on the edge of the couch and sighed. Who had he been kidding? There was nothing in the apartment that would help them find whoever had taken his partner.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him made him turn. Russ was leaning against the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room.

"Did you find anything?"

Russ shook her head.

"How about you?"

"No, but it's not like I expected to find something. The police searched the entire place already and didn't find anything. They probably thought I had cleaned up after I kidnapped my own partner."

"It's ridiculous. Why would they suspect you?"

Booth sighed.

"One day, I'll explain to you how cops can be corrupted or even biased."

Russ' eyes fell on something on the floor. Booth frowned.

"What are you looking at?"

Not answering his question, Russ simply walked over to the back of the couch and crouched down. Running his hand under the couch, he grabbed the shiny metal that had caught his attention. He stood up and showed it to Booth.

"What's that?" Booth asked as he grabbed the bracelet from Russ' hands.

Booth examined the object. It was made out of silver and almost looked like a Medic-Alert bracelet. Flipping it inside out, Booth was able to make out an inscription on the widest part of the jewellery.

"T.M."

"T.M.? Like initials?" Russ asked, confused.

Booth nodded.

"Where did you find it?"

"Under the couch."

"I know that. Where under the couch?"

Russ showed him.

"How could I have missed it?" Booth asked more to himself than to Russ as he folded his fist, squashing the bracelet in his palm.

"How could the police have missed it?"

Booth's eyes, which had been closed for a second while the man tried to remember the previous night, snapped open.

"What if it hadn't been there last night?"

Russ frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Booth sighed more annoyed by the situation than by Russ.

"I mean, what if I told you that the abductor came back here and planted this bracelet under the couch?"

"I would tell you that you're crazy, man. Why would have the abductor come back here, put this bracelet with his initials on it and leave the apartment? No offense, Booth, but I don't think whoever took my sister is that stupid."

Throwing the bracelet on the floor, Booth flunked himself on the couch. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hand, he growled loudly. Russ watched in empathy.

"Relax, Booth."

Booth opened his eyes and stared at his partner's brother.

"I love your sister, man. She's not just my partner; she means everything to me."

"I know."

"I swore to myself I would never let anything happen to her."

"I think you kept that promise, Booth."

"That's the thing, I didn't. It's my fault she disappeared."

"How is that so?"

Booth sighed and sat up. He filled Russ in on the previous night's events.

"I waited an hour – an _hour_, Russ! – before I came back to see if she was okay. I was already too late. I shouldn't have left. If I had come in with her, I could have caught whoever was in her apartment and none of this would have happened."

Russ sighed and sat down beside the agent.

"Listen. Tempe has only been gone for like what?"

"Twenty hours."

"It's not much. There's still hope that she's okay."

"I guess."

"We found this bracelet. We can now go back to your office, do another search with these initials and see what pops up. If we find any matches, we can go see my sister's neighbour and ask him if that was the man he saw."

Booth considered the option.

"Fine," he replied, getting to his feet. "Let's go now. I'll have to turn over the bracelet to the local PD. I don't want to be arrested for withholding evidence."

* * *

Dana loved to walk her dog at night. There was nothing like the night to enjoy quiet time. With her daughter-in-law's two sets of twins, her house was always full of noise. When she had agreed to move in with her son to help out with the children, she hadn't expected it to be like that. She had raised four children herself, but she could say with pride that her children had been angels, compared to her grandchildren.

She turned the corner to Maple Grove, her street. She really liked this neighbourhood. The streets were safe, everybody knew each other, and nobody bothered to lock their doors in this part of Washington City.

Puzzles tugged at its leash before stopping dead in his tracks. Frowning, Dana looked down at her poodle. The dog stared ahead and was growling softly. She followed the dog's gaze.

Her heart skipped a beat as she began to make out the outline of someone standing on the sidewalk. Ignoring the quick rate of her heart, she tugged at her dog's leash and slowly walked up to the stranger. Puzzles' growls grew louder and more menacing.

"Can I help you?" Dana asked, casually.

Startled, the stranger spun around. His eyes were as dark as his short hair, Dana immediately noticed.

"Could you tell me who lives there?" the man replied, pointing to the white house in front of them.

"The Stinsons, of course."

The man nodded.

"Thank you."

Then, before Dana even had the chance to ask the man why he had wanted to know, the stranger crossed the street and disappeared into the night.


	5. Chapter 5: Karen Stinson

**A/N: Here is the official "new" chapter for this story. I suggest, for those who got this chapter on alert, that you read the first four chapters to refresh your memory. For those of you who already have, enjoy this next instalment. I'm definitely having a lot of fun writing this story.**

* * *

Police cars were lined in front of the small white house when Booth turned onto Maple Grove Street. Curious bystanders stood behind the yellow tape as policemen in uniform tried to push them away. Booth parked the SUV away from the crowd and climbed out.

He had been talking to the officer in charge of his partner's disappearance when the call came in. A man had arrived home from his night-shift to find his house empty and his wife nowhere to be found. He had called her cell phone which had resonated from the living room coffee table. Her purse and shoes still lay in the entrance and her car was still parked in the driveway.

The similarities between this disappearance and Temperance's were what had brought Booth and the officer, James Culbertson, to the scene. This new abduction had immediately cleared Booth as a prime suspect. After all, he hadn't known Karen Stinson and had been with Russ the previous evening. His alibi at the movie theater had also checked out.

Booth ducked under the yellow tape and walked to the house where Culbertson was already waiting for him. The two men stepped inside. A crime scene team was already dusting the place for fingerprints and evidence. Nothing had been found so far. But the house contained many rooms and most of them had yet to be searched.

As Culbertson stepped further into the house, Booth climbed the stairs to the second floor.

The floor held three bedrooms, all lined one after another, and a single bathroom down the corridor. The first bedroom was nicely decorated with pink walls. A small bed stood in the corner of the room; stuffed animals huddled together on top of the pillow and Tinkerbell smiling back at you. Booth made a mental note to ask about the whereabouts of the little girl he assumed was Karen Stinson's daughter.

The second bedroom, slightly bigger than the first, was plain. The walls were white and the room consisted of a dresser and a double bed. Booth deduced the room served as a guest bedroom and moved on to the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway.

The curtains were drawn, throwing the bedroom into a light darkness. Stepping inside, Booth strapped on a pair of latex gloves. He walked around, examining drawers and the two nightstands. Nothing seemed out of place, no visible signs of struggle were visible. Booth was convinced that, much like his partner, this woman hadn't made it to her bed. According to her husband, none of her belongings were missing.

Walking out of the bedroom, Booth made his way to the only bathroom in the second floor. He found the door closed. A sinking feeling overtook him. All of the other doors had been opened; why not this one? As he turned the knob, he half-expected it to be locked. Fortunately, he pushed the door open and switched on the light. His eyes immediately fell on the empty bathtub. Though a towel lay on the ground, everything seemed normal. Booth let out a sigh of relief. At least no one had been murdered in the bathroom.

However, his relief was short-lived. As he turned around to exit the bathroom, something bright immediately caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat as the meaning of what he had just found dawned on him. Backing out of the bathroom, he walked over to the balustrade.

"Culbertson!" Booth called out. "You might want to come up here! I found something you definitely want to see!"

Numbly, Booth walked back to the bathroom and stared at the two letters smeared across the mirror: T.M.

There was no doubt about it: Bones' abductor had struck again.

* * *

She was hungry and thirsty. Her stomach growled loudly and echoed off the walls of the chamber where she was being kept. The air was humid and cold. Where had the man taken her to? He hadn't come back since he had duct-taped her mouth and eyes shut. She had no way of knowing how long it had been. Hunger and thirst disoriented her, swinging her in and out of consciousness.

A noise made her look up as a tiny ray of light appeared under the hem of the tape. A gush of warm air filled the room. She heard the thump of something falling to the ground, followed by a grunt of pain. As suddenly as it had opened, the door slammed shut and darkness engulfed her once more.

She was aware of someone breathing heavily near her. She waited, listening intently. She sensed more than heard the movement. The newcomer had sat up. Faint tapping, similar to hands hitting stone, reached her ears as light footsteps made their way towards her. She felt what seemed like a foot collide with her chair. A high yelp echoed against the walls of the room.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded.

The frightened voice belonged to a woman. Temperance tried to make a noise but found that she couldn't. Her throat was too dry. She tried tapping her feet against the floor in an attempt to show her presence; this initiative didn't work either. Her feet were bound tightly to the chair.

"Are you dead?" the woman asked as Temperance felt a pair of hands touching her face.

Temperance shook her head violently. The woman jumped back, startled.

"Why can't you talk?"

Temperance sighed, irritated. Was this woman stupid? Couldn't she have told, from touching her face, that her eyes and her mouth were covered by tape?

Suddenly, her train of thoughts was abruptly cut short as a flash of pain shot through her body. The woman had quickly ripped the tape off her mouth.

"Ow!" Temperance screamed.

"Who are you?" the woman asked once more, not bothering to apologize for the pain she had just caused.

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan," Temperance replied as she grimaced in order to bring sensation back to her jaw. "Who are _you_?"

"Karen Stinson. You know, your name sounds familiar."

"I'm a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institute and I work with the FBI."

She didn't want to be talking to that woman. All she wanted was to untie herself from that chair and leave this place.

"Defence attorney," Karen replied, pointing to herself, oblivious to the fact that Temperance wasn't able to see her. "You and I might have worked against each other before."

"It's possible."

Temperance couldn't understand why this woman wasn't untying her at the moment. If they were both free, they could escape right away.

Instead, Karen sat down. The floor was hard and cold, much like the walls. She deduced they were being kept in a stone-walled room, much like a cold storage room found in basements. She shared her hypothesis with Temperance who simply shrugged. The forensic anthropologist only had one thought: to escape.

"Thank you for taking the tape off my mouth," Temperance said as silence filled the air. "Maybe you could take the duct-tape off my eyes too?"

The door cringed on its hinges and a tiny ray of light appeared once again. Karen shushed the anthropologist and listened intently. The door stayed ajar. The faint sounds of creaking stairs reached their ears.

"He'll be back," Karen whispered. "Listen, I'll go back to where he dumped me and pretend to be passed out. I'll find some way to attack him, then I'll come untie you and we'll get out of here."

"I don't think it's going to work," Temperance replied, sceptical.

She could definitely see huge flaws in the woman's plan, starting with the fact that the man was tall and big. As much as she hated to admit it, she doubted a woman would be able to take him down. Second of all, duct-taped kept her tied to her chair. Karen would need scissors to cut her free and the man would have the chance to wake up before she even found a pair.

She listened as Karen made her way back to the floor. Then, deep silence filled the room. She wasn't sure how long they waited until their abductor came back.

"I had forgotten the scissors to cut the tape," the stranger said in a low voice.

Karen groaned as the man picked her off the ground and slung her over his shoulder. They disappeared into the cold room and stepped into the darkness. A ripping sound filled the silence as their assailant began to wrap duct-tape around Karen's legs.

Closing her eyes, Karen thrust her feet into the air. The soles of her feet collided with something hard, probably the man's jaw. The man groaned loudly in pain. Karen was getting to her feet when a punch in the stomach blew all the air out of her. She fell to her knees, arms clutching her stomach, gasping for air.

The man snickered.

"Do you really think you could take me?" he asked, wrapping her legs tighter together until it seemed the blood couldn't penetrate the area.

Then, raising his hand, he brought it down behind her head. Karen's forehead hit the floor and darkness engulfed her completely.

From the other side of the room, Temperance listened intently. From what she had heard, she deduced the newcomer had tried to put her plan into action before seeing it backfiring on her. Now, the only sound came from the scissors cutting through the duct-taped.

Finally, she heard footsteps coming her way. She sat still, alert.

"Wouldn't want the same thing happening with you, my precious forensic anthropologist," the man said before putting something in front of her mouth. "Especially since it seems you've already got some help. Take a deep breath!"

Temperance resisted. Holding her breath, she moved her head from left to right to prevent the abductor from pressing the cloth against her nose. Her lungs began to burn as her body demanded air. Eventually, her reflexes kicked in. By a desperate gulp of air, Temperance breathed in the sweet scent of the chloroform.


	6. Chapter 6: Interviews

**A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed. I know the setting a little strange since, technically, it happened four years ago but bear with me. It will be a good story! I'm re-watching season 2 to make sure the relationships between the characters are as authentic as they used to be.**

* * *

It was Day 3 of the investigation.

Pacing back and forth between the computer and the window, Booth thought about what had happened the previous day. Another woman had gone missing and the same initials which had been engraved on the bracelet had popped up at the new crime scene. Just like in his partner's case, the scene had been completely devoid of evidence. No fingerprints had been found on the doorknob and no blood spatter (cleaned or visible) or signs of struggled had been observed. The abductor had been thorough in making sure he didn't leave any clues behind.

Booth turned to his computer on which millions of faces zoomed across its screen. The search for criminals with the initials T.M. was definitely taking a long time. His initial decision had been to search only in the Washington D.C. area. His gut feeling had then kicked in and Booth had decided to broaden the search nationwide. Though not very often, criminals did travel and move.

After the raid in Bones' apartment, Russ had insisted on accompanying him to the local police station.

"If I go in with you, I'll be able to vouch for you. They'll be forced to believe you didn't withhold evidence from them and it will clear your name as the prime suspect."

When the call had come for Karen Stinson, Booth had called a cab for Russ, handing the man his eyes, and had sent him to his apartment for the night. This morning, he had convinced the man to stay behind. There was nothing he could do anyway. In a couple of hours, they would be interviewing Karen Stinson's husband. Culbertson had told him the man had been too shaken up the previous day to talk to them and a meeting had been scheduled for this morning. The detective had requested that Booth be present for the interview.

Something vibrated against his left thigh. Startled, Booth fetched out his cellphone from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Booth."

It was Culbertson.

"The blood turned out to be fake."

"What?" Booth replied, surprised.

"The blood found on Karen Stinson's mirror is fake. It's the kind of blood you can buy at the store for Halloween. At least we know he didn't use Karen Stinson's blood for his signature. How is the search going?"

Booth sat down at his desk. The screen was still flashing different criminal records.

"I'm halfway through the list, I think. It's been searching for over an hour. I've got close to a hundred hits so far. It will take all day to sift through those records. I was thinking about bringing them to Bones - I mean, to Dr. Brennan's apartment building and showing them to the neighbour who saw the abductor."

"You might want to swing by the Stinson's neighbour's house too."

"Why?"

"This woman called this morning after watching the news, saying she remembered seeing a strange man standing outside of Stinson's home the night she disappeared. We're bringing her down for questioning. Would you like to be there?"

Booth shot one look at the screen and made up his mind.

"Give me thirty minutes."

* * *

The interrogation room was much smaller than the other at the FBI headquarters. From the two-way mirror, Booth could see a short woman, probably in the sixties, sitting in a chair. She looked rather uncomfortable sitting in that cold gray room. With her nice clothes, she seemed rather out of place in the depressing décor.

"Her name is Dana Lewis," Culbertson briefed him. "She's 62 years old, lives with her son, his wife and their four children. Grandma helps taking care of them. Get this: they have two sets of twins!"

"Wow!" Booth replied, genuinely amazed by the last piece of information.

"Shall we go?"

Booth followed the detective to the adjacent room. The grandmother turned her head as the door behind her opened. Culbertson introduced them before taking a seat across the table. The detective explained the reason of Booth's presence in the room and the woman agreed to have him stay.

"Please tell me what you saw the night Karen Stinson disappeared," Culbertson began. "What were you doing?"

Dana Lewis took a deep breath before answering. Booth could tell the woman was nervous.

"I was taking my dog Puzzles for a walk. When we turned onto Maple Grove, Puzzles went rigid. I thought, at first, that he might have seen a squirrel or another animal. But then I looked up and I saw a man standing on the sidewalk. He wasn't moving, simply staring at the Stinson's house. I walked up to him and asked him if he needed any help. I thought maybe he was lost. He asked me who lived in that house and I told him the Stinson's did. Before I could say anything else, he crossed the street and disappeared."

"Did you see where he went?"

Dana Lewis shook her head.

"It was already dark, maybe 10 p.m. when I went out for my walk. He was wearing a black sweatshirt. When he crossed the street, he just melted into the darkness."

Culbertson jotted something down in his notepad.

"Then, what?" Booth asked while the detective wrote.

"I walked back home."

"How far from the Stinson's do you live?" Booth went on.

"Three houses down."

"Did you hear anything after you got home? Something shouting or a gun shot, maybe?"

Once again, the old woman shook her head.

"I'm sorry I can't be of much help. Besides the description of the man I already gave you, that's all I can tell you."

"How well do you know Karen Stinson?" Booth asked, curious to know how Dana knew her third-door neighbour.

"Karen has a daughter. Her name is Delilah. She's five, the same age as my granddaughter Sophie. The two of them often go on play dates. Karen has been over a few times since they've moved on the street, two years ago."

Booth thought back to the pink-walled bedroom he had come across in his search the previous day. Though he knew a child must have lived in the house, the bed had been made and no toys had been found scattered across the floor.

"We didn't see her daughter," Culbertson told the older woman. "Do you have any idea where she could have been?"

Dan's face paled as her eyes grew wide in fear.

"Do you think he could have taken her too?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. Booth immediately felt the urge to console her.

"No, I don't think he did. The bed was made. I don't think she was in the house."

Dana let out a sigh of relief.

Culbertson got his feet and reached to shake the woman's hand.

"Thank you for your help, Mrs. Lewis. If you ever think of anything else, please don't hesitate to call me."

The door to the interrogation room opened. Dana got to her feet and followed the officer out the room. When the door had closed behind them, Culbertson turned to Booth.

"Once you've found all the criminal records, show the pictures to Mrs. Lewis. She might be able to identify him. That guy might not leave evidence at his crime scenes, but he's sloppy in his own way. We've got two eyes witnesses would can place him at the scene around the time of the abduction."

Booth nodded, comforted by the detective's words. The abductor now didn't seem so far out of reach. There was still hope he could be identified.

"Is the husband here yet?"

"They're sending him in as we speak," Culbertson replied.

* * *

Robert Stinson seemed much taller than Booth remembered him to bed. A few inches taller than him, Stinson bore salt-and-peppered hair and bright blue eyes. Booth guessed Karen's husband age to be around his mid-forties. One quick glance ruled him out as a suspect. The mysterious both Dana Lewis and Tom Pharatt, Bones' neighbour, had seen was average height. This man definitely wasn't.

Culbertson introduced them once more and motioned for the man to sit down. Once again, Culbertson explained the reasons behind the FBI's presence in the interrogation room. Like Dana Lewis, Robert Stinson agreed to have Booth present.

This time, it was Booth who began the interview with the usual question.

"Where were you when your wife disappeared?"

"I was at work. I'm a paediatrician at the Children's National Medical Center. I've been working the nightshift there for years. Call them, they will tell you."

"It's okay, Mr. Stinson. We believe you," Culbertson replied, soothingly. "What time did you get home?"

"Around 6 a.m."

"Did you notice anything unusual? When did you realize your wife was missing?"

"Everything seemed normal," Robert Stinson replied, as though he was himself confused. "Her car was parked in the driveway. The house was quiet when I walked in. Since Delilah wasn't home this weekend, I knew Karen wouldn't wake up before nine o'clock."

"Where was your daughter?"

"Once a month, Delilah spends the weekend with Karen's parents. It gives us some time alone together. Between my nightshifts and Karen's cases, we don't cross paths very often."

"Tell me more about your wife's work. What kind of clients does she represent?"

Suddenly, the name hit Booth like a tidal wave. Karen Stinson was a defence lawyer.

"She represents all kinds of criminals," Robert Stinson replied, bringing Booth back to reality. "She's really good at her job. She knows how to gain her clients' trust and how to keep it. The only criminals she refuses to represent are child abductors and child rapists. I think it hits a sensitive cord within her."

"Who takes cares of your daughter when both your wife and you aren't home? It must happen quite often, especially when Karen is in a trial."

Stinson nodded.

"Most of the time, my parents come over to babysit. We also have a babysitter, Jennifer, who lives down the street from us."

Again, Culbertson scribbled something in a notepad.

"What did you do when you came home yesterday morning? Before you realized your wife was missing, that is."

Booth eyed the man sitting in front of them. Despite the previous day's initial reaction, Stinson now seemed almost unconcerned that his wife had disappeared. His stoic attitude was apparent. As though sensing the FBI agent's gaze on him, Stinson shifted in his seat.

"I immediately went in the bathroom to take a shower. I made some coffee and fixed myself something to eat. I hadn't eaten anything since midnight and I was starving. I ate a small breakfast and watched a bit of TV. Around 8, I finally decided to go to bed. I walked in my bedroom and found the bed empty. I found it odd, since her car was in the driveway. I figured that maybe her parents had come to pick her up last night so I went back downstairs to call her on her cellphone. It rang from her purse on the coffee table in the living room."

"You told us you watched some TV before you went to bed," Booth immediately cut in, catching an irregularity in the story. "Therefore, you must have seen her purse on the coffee table earlier?"

"I did," Robert Stinson replied, eyeing the FBI agent suspiciously. "That was when I thought she was sleeping in our bedroom. Are you accusing me of abducting my own wife, Agent Booth?"

Before Booth even had a chance to answer, Culbertson thanked the husband for his help. Getting to his feet, Stinson shot an angry look at Booth before following the detective out of the interrogation room.

As the door closed, Booth rested his forehead in the palms of his hand and let out a deep sigh. Much like Tom Pharatt and Dana Lewis, Robert Stinson didn't have any information the police didn't already have. Only now, they had a time frame. Karen Stinson had disappeared between ten o'clock Saturday night and six o'clock Sunday morning.

He thought of his partner, his precious yet irritating Bones, and wondered what she was doing at that moment. Was she hurt? Where was she being held? Why hadn't anybody seen something? Women didn't just disappear like that. Someone must have seen something strange. Dana Lewis had seen a strange man on the sidewalk; Tom Pharatt had seen someone unlocking Temperance's door. Were they the same man?

Angela's face suddenly flashed through his mind. His heart sunk. He hadn't thought of them. He would have to tell the Jeffersonian team that Bones was missing. It suddenly hit him that they hadn't called him yet. Did they even notice she hadn't come in to work? This day was definitely not getting better.

* * *

Temperance opened her eyes. The sound of her growling stomach had woken her. She tried to listen for noise coming from across the room but heard nothing. Karen must still have unconscious. How long had she been out herself? Her memory was foggy. She remembered Karen trying to escape, though the sounds engraved in her memory were muffled, like she had heard them through a bubble.

She felt dizzy. She couldn't tell how long it had been since she had eaten something. Her abductor didn't seem to care too much for their health. No food had been provided. Was that how he planned to kill them? By starvation?

The place now smelled of urine. Temperance figured either Karen's or her own bladder had let itself go while they were unconscious. Bile rose dangerously up her oesophagus. Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her angry stomach. A noise across the room made her head snap up. A groan reached her ears.

"Where am I?"

"We've been abducted," Temperance replied. "Don't you remember?"

Across the room, Karen Stinson grimaced. Her head was pounding, though she couldn't remember why. She closed her eyes and focused, trying desperately to remember where she was. The voice that had spoken to her sounded familiar. Why?

Slowly, images began forming inside her mind: a dark shadow in the hallway; the coldness of the knife as it pressed against her throat; the voice whispering in her ear to act as though everything was normal as they walked to the black car parked in front of her house; the feeling of dread as she climbed in the car; the feel of the duct-tape as he taped her eyes at an abandoned gas station; the darkness which had engulfed her as the man drove her to an unknown location. Never once had it crossed her mind to rip the duct-tape off. She had been too scared. Now, she sat in this uncomfortable chair, her ankles taped around the chair's front legs, her wrists bounded together in the back of the chair.

"Who are you?"

Temperance frowned.

"I already told you my name. Maybe the injury you've sustained from our abductor has caused you to get amnesia. It would explain why you don't remember our earlier conversation or your ineffectual escape plan."

Karen raised her eyebrows in surprise. Who _was_ this woman? Why did she speak like a dictionary?

"How long have you been here?" Karen asked.

Temperance shrugged.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I was taken Friday night."

"I was taken Saturday," Karen informed her.

Temperance was surprised by the woman's response. If Karen had been taken from her home Saturday night, this meant she had been here for more than twenty-four hours. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought.

"Do you think anyone is looking for us?" Karen asked, from her end of the room.

Temperance thought of Booth. Her heart gave a tiny squeeze in response.

"My partner works for the FBI. I'm sure he's looking for me right now," Temperance replied, confidently.

Booth had rescued her once before. He had even snuck out of the hospital, badly injured, to come get her. There was no doubt in her mind he would find them soon.

"We should try to escape," Karen announced, suddenly. "We need a plan."

"We'll need a much better one than the one you thought of earlier."

Temperance heard the other woman chuckle. Silence filled the room as they both began to think.

Two floors above, their abductor was typing rapidly on his keyboard.


End file.
